


Valet

by coreopsis



Category: Gosford Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreopsis/pseuds/coreopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was based on an anon prompt: "That fic with Ivor Novello, and how he deals with being in the manor house and having to hang out with Denton and Weissman, and how he maybe catches Robert Parks giving him sidelong looks."  I deviated from that quite a bit, but the prompter still gets props otherwise I'd never have even attempted Gosford Park fic.  Thanks to the lovely and talented Nicole for the beta.</p></blockquote>





	Valet

Ivor had always had a liking for actors. Being in movies was quite convenient for him, in that respect. They were always around, and well, they were _easy_. Life had not always been easy for Ivor, so he embraced what few things were.

And yet, Henry Denton was not who had Ivor on edge. More on edge, really, considering how Lady Trentham had an uncanny ability to remove his manhood with a single slyly innocent comment. Denton, in fact, left him surprisingly cold. Perhaps it was because Ivor knew Denton's game, knew how he'd do anything to get ahead even if his heart--or loins-- weren't in it.

Lord Stockbridge's man, on the other hand... Robert Parks had Ivor on edge from the first moment their eyes met as they passed in the hallway. Ivor enjoyed the luxuries of his cousin's manor house but not the snobbery. He didn't look down on the servants simply because he himself was so often looked down upon by Lady Trentham and her ilk. In any case, Robert Parks gave the impression that he'd fit seamlessly into the upper class, if not for some unfortunate trick of birth. Ivor found himself wondering if Parks had ever given any thought to acting.

And then his thoughts wandered in a more lascivious direction. It was not to be, of course. Ivor had his role to play in William's house and dallying with the servants was not in the script--although he knew full well it would be if a house_maid_ had caught his eye. It was with well-practiced restraint and a certain cynical resignation that Ivor relegated Parks to the realm of fantasy, to the Land of Might Have Been, so to speak. And fantasize Ivor did. He'd had plenty of practice at that as well, and what else was acting except fantasizing?

Alone in his room after a day of entertaining--and watching and learning--Ivor gave himself up to fantasies of Parks, of _Robert_ and his broad shoulders and handsome face. His world-weary arrogance barely hidden beneath his professional servant's veneer, Robert came to Ivor in dreams. His rough hands gentle on Ivor's body, his mouth so sweet and hard, taking and taking, as Ivor gave more and more of himself away.

Then Denton exposed himself as a fraud and William was dead, and everything turned upside down, even as everyone desperately pretended that nothing had changed. Because that is what they _did_, even when faced with murder.

When Parks showed up at Ivor's door, Ivor almost believed he was dreaming. Perhaps he'd fallen asleep on his bed and his mind had gone to that wonderful place it had been spending so many stolen moments. But no, Parks had come to dress him for dinner and Ivor had to act uninterested, unremarkable, _unaroused_. In short, the most challenging performance of his career.

Parks looked at Ivor nearly naked as he washed off in the basin. Ivor made casual conversation and tried to ignore the almost tangible caress of piercing blue eyes. Parks brushed his hands against Ivor's shoulders and chest, innocently helping him into his shirt. Ivor closed his eyes, unable to bear the longing, the hunger that sprang to full and flaming life in his belly. It was all he could do not to lunge at Parks, to slake the terrible thirst burning his throat, to feel this exquisite man against him.

And then, Ivor's shirt fell away and Robert's hands curved over Ivor's bare shoulders and his mouth brushed against Ivor's ear, sending shivers down his spine. "I know what you want," Robert whispered. "You're not the first."

"I've no doubt of that." Ivor tried to suffuse it with humor, but his voice was too strangled to sound anything but yearning. "I...I would do nothing."

"Yes. That's what draws me to you." Robert's lips pressed lightly to Ivor's neck just below his ear before he said, "That is my weakness." The confidence and self-awareness in Robert's low voice sent blood rushing to Ivor's groin, leaving him slightly light-headed.

Ivor, who prided himself on being erudite, made an inarticulate sound and pressed back against Robert's body. The feel of clothing, smooth fabric and stiff buttons, against his naked skin only added to his arousal, to his dangerous craving for more. He'd never wanted anything--anyone--so badly in his life. He spun around to face the object of his desires, but Robert's hands slid down his arms and gripped his wrists, holding him still. "Please--"

Robert cut him off with a firm kiss that ended much too soon. "They're expecting you downstairs."

Ivor lifted his hands, his wrists still shackled in Robert's grip, and reached for the buttons on Robert's coat. "_They_ can go hang."

"You don't mean that." Robert smiled and released Ivor's wrists. He held his own hands out to the side and allowed Ivor to remove his coat, undo the buttons on his waistcoat, and loosen his tie.

"Sometimes, I really, really do." Ivor forgot what else he might have intended to say when Robert brushed his hands away and pushed him toward the bed. Ivor lay back upon the sumptuous pillows and watched as Robert took over his own disrobing with a quickness that seemed more industrious than hurried.

When he was completely naked, Robert locked the door and climbed onto the bed. He unfastened Ivor's trousers. "I want--"

"Yes."

"You don't know what I was going to say," Robert said, with a laugh.

"Doesn't matter." Ivor arched his hips so that Robert could pull his trousers and underwear off. "The answer is still yes."

Robert made an amused sound in the back of his throat and bent to Ivor's cock. He breathed on it, fleetingly licked the tip, and watched as it grew harder in appreciation. He glanced up at Ivor's face and Ivor found himself grinning hugely in response. "Most definitely yes, Robert. May I call you Robert?"

"I'm about to put your cock in my mouth. You can call me anything you want. _Ivor_."

His name on Robert's lips sent a shudder of lust through Ivor's body and his hands groped and squeezed at any part of Robert's body he could reach. Firm muscle and smooth skin and a scattering of hair under his fingers and Ivor's nerves sang in response. Robert really should have been an actor, Ivor thought once again, so charismatic, so incredibly beautiful. He couldn't quite believe that Robert was here, naked and pressing his mouth to Ivor's cock.

Ivor had detected a certain subservience in cocksucking before but Robert turned that all around. Ivor felt like a slave to Robert's mouth, languid and hurried all at once. A prisoner of his strong hand holding down Ivor's hip, of his rough fingers curling around the base of Ivor's cock.

When Robert pressed his fingers to Ivor's mouth, Ivor opened readily, greedily licking and sucking, teasingly catching the fingertips between his teeth before Robert pulled them out with a _tsk_. Robert moved up the bed, up Ivor's body, until he could kiss Ivor's open mouth, thrusting his tongue inside at the precise moment his fingers breached Ivor's entrance. Robert's fingers were long and rough, just as firm and gentle as Ivor had imagined, and it was all Ivor could do not to call out his pleasure to the world.

Robert pulled his fingers free and grasped Ivor's hips, pulling as if to turn Ivor over, but Ivor had had just about enough of passivity. He needed to take just as much as he was giving--or was that give as much as he was taking? He pushed at Robert's shoulders and got a frown in return. "You said _anything_."

"Yes, but perhaps what I meant was _everything_," Ivor replied, grinning wickedly. He took advantage of Robert's distraction to reverse their positions. He started at Robert's throat, pressing first his lips and then his teeth to the strong column. He could feel the pulse beating wildly beneath his open mouth, and his own seem to surge in response. He'd like to think he'd never felt this way before, but he had. It had just been a very long time ago, when his passions were closer to the surface and more easily surrendered.

Robert's hips arched against Ivor's and a low string of cursing came from his mouth, and every other word was "yes". Ivor took his time, however, working his way down Robert's chest, his lovely muscular chest that shuddered beneath each kiss. He licked down Robert's belly, and, perhaps a bit selfishly, sucked a blood-dark bruise into the skin right where the waistband of Robert's trousers would rub against it, reminding him of Ivor for a least a couple of days. Ivor knew that was all he'd get and he'd take it gladly.

Robert's hips arched again, pushing his cock against Ivor's chin and cheek until Ivor turned and took it into his mouth, licking the head thoroughly before pulling away and crawling off the bed. Walking over to the dressing table, Ivor took every step with assurance and confidence, taking pleasure in the knowledge that Robert was watching him. That Robert wanted him. He picked up an exquisite glass jar, returned to stand beside the bed and pressed it into Robert's hand.

"Where do you want me?"

Robert's eyes were huge and dark as his gaze skated all over Ivor's body, and he finally licked his lips and swallowed. "Face down. I want to be able to concentrate." He smiled slightly and Ivor wasn't sure who Robert was more amused by, but he decided it didn't matter much as long Robert gave him what he--what they both--wanted.

"Tell me if I go too fast," Robert murmured into Ivor's ear as Ivor settled on his front, one knee bent and pulled up, both to open himself to Robert's fingers and to give himself access to his cock.

Ivor didn't think he'd last long, so he wrapped his fingers around his erection and almost groaned. "There's no such thing as too fast."

Robert made a noise that sounded suspiciously like an aborted laugh, but then his slick fingers were pressing into Ivor again. Pushing in slowly but more easily than before and then Ivor couldn't take the teasing any more. He rocked his hips back. "I'm ready."

"Maybe I'm not." Robert slid his fingers deeper, brushing the tips over Ivor's prostate, as Ivor abandoned his own cock so he could grop behind him to find Robert's.

"Yes, you are. Now do it."

Robert pulled out his fingers and for a second or two Ivor felt bereft, but then Robert's cock thrust into him, steady and determined until Robert's belly was flush against Ivor's buttocks. They held there, suspended in the moment until Ivor couldn't tell who was shuddering and who was gasping. A quiet moan and the spell was broken. Robert began to move, slowly at first and then picking up speed. Ivor gripped his cock with one hand and the bed with the other and just held on for the ride. And a short ride it was, for he was coming in a matter of moments, shuddering through his orgasm and then feeling Robert shudder through his a few seconds later.

Robert pulled free and rolled over onto his back next to Ivor, and Ivor was so wrung out that all he could do was lie there and look at him.

"I--"

Robert raised a hand and said, "Don't."

"I was only going to say thank you." Ivor smiled and turned his face up toward the ceiling. "But if you do happen to find yourself in London some day..."

"I--"

Ivor raised a hand to cut him off. "It's all right, Robert. Just consider the invitation given."

Ivor turned to watch Robert and smiled a bit wider when Robert finally nodded with a thoughtful look on his face.

"I suppose I should get dressed for dinner soon."

Now it was Robert's turn to smile. "That's what I'm here for."

Which was true but not the whole truth. Robert had gotten something from Ivor--something besides sex--something that had made him relax and look years younger for just a moment. One day Ivor hoped to find out what it was.

 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on an anon prompt: "That fic with Ivor Novello, and how he deals with being in the manor house and having to hang out with Denton and Weissman, and how he maybe catches Robert Parks giving him sidelong looks." I deviated from that quite a bit, but the prompter still gets props otherwise I'd never have even attempted Gosford Park fic. Thanks to the lovely and talented Nicole for the beta.


End file.
